“He’s on his way,” Lauren said. “Showing up at the hospital covered in blood and with a clearly broken nose is not a good way to present yourself for your wife’s birth. I ordered him to get cleaned up and said I’d be here with you. After what he did for me back there—it’s the least I can do.”
“You killed your father,” Mindy said. She was blurry from the pain meds and blurry from the pain and blurry from the sorrow. Someone had told her about how much she’d bled in the ambulance on the way here, and how she’d continued to bleed while they performed the C-section. They had to give her blood during the surgery, and there was talk of more later, she’d heard. She wouldn’t have dared to ask Lauren that question any other time, but especially not now, not after she’d shot a man like she had. Granted that she did it to save Jack’s life because Wester would have killed him in the next few seconds, but still.
Lauren went very quiet. “Can I trust you, Mindy?”
Mindy nodded, keeping just as quiet as Lauren was.
“He was a bad man. A very, very bad man. I thought it was the drugs and the guns, but it was more than that. He was hurting kids. Selling women. And that… that wasn’t something I could stomach. I went to him and told him it had to stop. He said that I was a—a stupid cunt, that I’d never understand anything. He said if I didn’t keep my mouth shut, he’d kill me, or sell me, or just—” Lauren shook her head. “Yeah. Yeah, I did it.”
“Then why…?”
“Why spend all that time letting everyone think it was Jack? Play the game of the weak little woman who can’t manage anything on her own?” Lauren shrugged, her eyes just a little bit colder than they’d been before. “Because my father wasn’t always a bad man, and when he was a good one, he built something beautiful. And I wanted a chance to rebuild it. But to do that, I had to flush out the ones who had supported him wholeheartedly. I couldn’t go through the gang and ask each one of them; they would’ve lied and told me whatever they thought I wanted to hear. I had to know.”
“Did you have to put Jack’s life in danger to do it?” There was a bitterness flaring in Mindy’s voice, and she did her best to choke it back; she wasn’t sure it worked as well as she’d hoped.
“Honestly? Yes. I’m sorry for that, but it was what had to be done. If you think he wouldn’t have done the exact same thing, you’re kidding yourself. The club always comes first. Joanna knows that. If you want to be happy as his wife, you’ll know that too.”
The coldness had spread from Lauren’s eyes to her face. Mindy wanted to argue with her and insist that Jack was different; Jack wouldn’t have put them at risk—but was that really, entirely true? Maybe it was, and maybe it wasn’t. With the clubs at peace, hopefully, she would never need to see that theory tested. The point was that he hadn’t failed her yet, and it was important to her to believe that he wouldn’t in the future. If that faith was misplaced? Well, she’d have to worry about it then. But she’d had enough of guessing when people were going to betray her. Living like she was going to be abandoned at any moment hadn’t gotten her anywhere good. So, she had to go somewhere. Do something.
Lauren was quiet for a moment, then said, in a much more subdued voice, “I found out about your friend Cook.”
Mindy braced for the news that she was sure was going to be terrible.
“They did leave him for dead out in the desert, but he was found by some hikers who radioed for help. They got him to one of the big hospitals in the city, and he was in really rough shape for a long time, but one of my people finally got through to someone who could help us, and it’s looking like he’s going to be okay.
Something deep inside of Mindy had been twisted for so long, and she felt it let go in a sudden, guts-deep release.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“The first thing he told my guy, once he knew why he was there, was that he was sorry that he hurt you. There’s a whole backstory about why it happened, and I’ll spare you the details, but he… was regretful. I don’t know if that makes a difference to you or not.”
Mindy rolled it over in her mind for a little bit and then shrugged. “I don’t care why he did it. Maybe someday I’ll feel differently, but right now, I just… No. To hell with him.”
Lauren nodded. “I’m certainly not going to argue for forgiveness in this kind of situation.” She reached out, hesitated, and then took Mindy’s hand between hers. “Now, on to important matters. I know how once the baby’s out, people kind of forget that Mom’s a person, too. Has anyone been by to take you to see your baby?”
Mindy’s eyes filled with tears. She shook her head hard, her throat too tight to speak. She had a bleary memory of holding him for just a moment in the OR, but her arms had been weak and not really hers. So someone had to help her, and then he needed to go into a bassinet and get rushed off to the NICU, and she had to get stitched up and brought to a room of her own, and her arms just felt empty and wrong. She barely remembered them telling her that the baby was a boy.
“Well, We’re going to fix that now,” Lauren said. She disappeared out of the room, an intensity in her step that told Mindy she was very angry.
Chapter Thirty-One It took about ten minutes, and then Lauren returned with a wheelchair, chasing a nurse who was holding a paper cup of pain medication. Once Mindy had swallowed her pills like a good girl, Lauren helped her slide into the chair. She’d gotten her catheter out—thank God—and was all de-IV’d, so it was a simple matter of making sure her robe covered up anything the hospital gown didn’t, and Lauren was wheeling her through the hospital like a pro.
The NICU was at the other end of the wing from the maternity ward. Mindy found herself experiencing a strange mix of apprehension, regret, and excitement as Lauren wheeled her along. Jack was supposed to be here with her, to meet his son. He should have been in the OR with her, instead of her being alone. Of course, from the way the nurses described the surgery proceeding, he probably wouldn’t have been allowed in. But still. It would have been something. He should be here now. They hadn’t even decided on a name for the boy. What in the name of everything was going to happen next?
At the door to the NICU, everyone was smiling and happy, but there was an odd quality to it. Of course, these nurses worked with very tiny, very sick, little people, and it must be a difficult job. They said that Lauren couldn’t come into the room, and after a quick argument, a friendly looking nurse with deep, dark brown skin and hair done back in twists stepped in.
“I’ll take her,” the woman said. “I’ll look after her like she was my own sister. Alright?”
Lauren nodded, and Mindy thought there might be tears in her eyes. Before the nurse could wheel her away, Mindy reached out and took Lauren’s hand. “Wait, before—tell me. What was Grim’s name? I mean, before he was Grim?”
Lauren’s head tilted to the side just a little before a grin broke out on her face.
“Michael,” she said.
“Okay,” Mindy said.
The nurse wheeled her through the doors, then helped her put on the special yellow gowns and booties that would keep not just her baby, but all the other babies in the room safe from infections. She was struck by all the little babies in the room. In the OR, in that brief moment when she’d held her son, he’d looked so small, but now, compared to some of the other preemies in their isolettes, he looked so big. Not that she’d ever spent much time around babies, or had a real solid idea of what size a newborn ought to be.
“Can I… can I hold him?” She glanced up at the nurse, who gave her a kind smile.
“Yes,” she replied. “He’s doing well, nice and stable since he got here. Let me help you.” The woman reached down into the isolette and carefully lifted the baby. In the nurse’s arms, he suddenly looked quite small again, just a wee little thing being held by an adult. She lowered him carefully into Mindy’s arms, and that felt right. Oh, God, she’d never known how right that could feel. She held the little boy to her heart and stared down at him, feeli
ng herself fall in love with his sweet little mouth and dimpled chin and sleepy eyes. He had Jack’s hair, dirty blond, but she could see a bit of curl to it, like hers. He was theirs. Their little baby boy.
“We don’t have a name written down yet,” the nurse said. “Have you picked something out?”
“I’m not positive yet,” Mindy said. “I have to run it by—my husband. But I was thinking of Michael.”
The nurse smiled. “It’s a good name.”
“I think so.”
“Here, hold on tight.” The nurse wheeled her over to a glass window. On the other side of it, Lauren waited. When she saw the baby, she grinned, waving frantically, as if she expected the tiny newborn to pick up his hand and waved back. Since that was beyond his skill set, Mindy helped by wiggling his tiny fist back and forth. And then, just as her arms started to get tired, and her eyes started to droop, and she thought maybe it was a good idea to get back to her room and get back into bed, she saw Jack race up to the window.
He stopped himself from planting both of his hands against it and staring in, but she got the idea that it was certainly something in his mind. He did place one palm on the glass, watching her with wide eyes and a jaw that had dropped open. She smiled back, and even if it was gas, like people always said, the baby’s little mouth opened in a grin, which morphed into a big yawn.
Their little family had gotten a different start than was typical, but they were definitely a family. That much was sure.
Chapter Thirty-Five Mindy sat on a park bench and watched her one-year-old son totter after the bigger kids, laughing happily as he went. He was too small for most of the playground equipment, but that didn’t stop him from happily trying to climb, swing, and jump just like the other kids around him. And laugh; that child could laugh until the world smiled.
The roar of a motorcycle pulling up to the park made Mindy smile as she sipped from her water bottle. She didn’t even need to look around anymore; with the peace between the Wardens and the Chain Gang solidified, there wasn’t another biker in town who would be pulling up to the playground for anything other than to play with their kid.
Michael saw Jack before Mindy even turned to say hello to him. That was fine with her; getting to see Jack’s face light up when Michael saw him, yelled “Daddy!” and ran as fast as his chubby legs would carry him across the playground was special every single time it happened. For all of Jack’s worries about how he’d never had a father, and would he be able to do this well, he’d adjusted just fine once the baby was actually in his arms. He took on his share of parenting duties, without complaining or making out that he was some kind of hero, changed dirty diapers without complaining about the smell (more than was fair), and sometimes even took the baby so she could get a little more sleep.
Mindy had thought about returning to work, but for now, she was happy taking care of Michael. Maybe when he started preschool next year, it might make more sense. The diner had sat empty since Cook decided not to return to town, and she’d thought about opening a little coffee shop over there. Nothing too fancy, a little sit down place with coffee, tea, cakes, and pies. Maybe some sandwiches. It’d still work out well for the crowd that came in off the highway and might be something the locals would enjoy, too. She’d mentioned the idea to Jack, who’d grinned. Joking, he pointed out that the club was always looking for more legitimate business opportunities. Jerk.
No. This was going to be something Mindy did on her own. Something she could be proud of. Like she was proud of her son and proud of her new house.
It was a smallish house, out on the outskirts of Providence, but reasonably close to the clubhouse. There was a guest room, a room for Michael, a master suite for her and Jack, a little kitchen that gave her just enough space to move around, and an actual dining room… She loved it. She’d spent her free time, what little there was of it over the last year, making it her own. Theirs. For her new little family.
Sometimes it made her nervous, living in a place where her name was on a leash and where her mail didn’t arrive having been forwarded twice. She was just… home. Sometimes it made her want to fly away, but then she looked at Jack and at Michael, and even though the urge to wander was there, she didn’t have the least idea where she’d want to go. Not unless she could bring them too.
Jack was in the process of grooming Bodhi to take over his role as President of the Chain Gang. Lauren didn’t want the job; she liked being the boss of the Wardens, and she had worked hard to make sure they respected her. She’d started making changes, too, pushing them towards a more inclusive method of determining if someone was worthy of being patched. That was, she busted up the rule that only white men could be patched into the Wardens. It was slow progress; people just flat-out didn’t look at a club that didn’t have many women or many people who were not white, but changes were happening, and Joanna was looking to “stick the course.”
Mindy and Jack had talked a lot about his role in the Chain Gang. He was clear, and she supported this, that he didn’t want to walk away from the club entirely. He wasn’t even sure he really could. But he also didn’t want to continue to be the boss of things. He said that, with a baby at home, and her on his arm, he didn’t need that external family in quite the same way. He wanted them, but they weren’t his focus.
She understood, and she told him so.
After Michael had been thoroughly bounced and kissed, Jack turned back to her.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said.
“Hey, handsome,” she replied, squinting up at the sun.
“I only have a minute, I’m actually on my way to a meeting, but I wanted to stop by and tell you both I love you. I’ll see you at home? I might be late.”
“I’ll see you then,” Mindy said and watched her handsome husband ride away.
***
At home, Mindy had just gotten Michael into bed when she heard the front door open and close. She glanced at the time; this was very different from the late Jack had suggested. It was barely nap time.
She walked towards the front door to find out what was going on, but before she got a single word out, he grabbed her wrist, spinning her gently, and planting her up against the wall.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered in her ear, his words a caress that tightened her nipples and twisted her clit. She heard him unzipping, and then felt her skirt pool up around her hips. He spread her feet out with his foot, and she groaned, wet and eager without any further request. They’d become absolute masters of hot and heavy quickies over the past year, eager and excited and delicious. He was already hard, and when he pressed up into her, he met no real resistance. She groaned, using her forearm to stifle the sound, as he thrust up into her. He was moving quick, fast and wanting, and she did her best to meet his strokes with her own hips. He must have been close already; his hand came around to find her clit and finger her, hard, driving her towards an explosive orgasm even as she ground down onto him.
But before she could, he pulled away, leaving her empty and aching. He took her by the hand and led her to the couch, their second favorite location. He sat down on the couch, pushing his jeans down out of the way so neither one of them would get pinched, and then tugged her back onto his lap. She slid down onto him easily, piercing her cunt with his cock, and rocked into him gently. The ruined orgasm was on the horizon, so ready to leap back into her cunt and drive her over the edge, but as she started to move, he put a finger over her lips to catch her attention.
“Wait for me?” His voice was so soft, so eager, so gentle, and she couldn’t do anything other than nod. She drove down onto him, hard and harder, pushing away the surging pleasure while he arched underneath her, his hands full of her breasts and his breathing growing hard and rapid. Just when she was thought she’d lose control entirely, his eyes flashed open.
“Come with me,” he whispered, and she did, shattered by his command in a way she always thought only happened in movies, right up until they started playing this
chastity game. The pleasure rammed through her, coming in roiling waves that moved with her thrusts. She could feel her cunt spasming around him, feel the surge of his pleasure filling her, again and again, until they collapsed together, sweaty and panting.
After a little while, she rolled off of him but stayed cuddled into his arm, her legs draped over his lap. He held her closer, leaning down and kissing the top of her head.
“We do pretty well together,” he said after a minute.
She threaded her fingers through his. “I think we’re doing just fine.”
“I’m glad you married me.”
“I’m glad, too.”
THE END
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